


Dangerous Fame

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Attempted Rape, Attempted Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Intrusive 'fans', M/M, Stalking, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After deafeating Megatron and becoming temporary Magnus, Optimus has to deal with the downside of his newly found fame, which includes intrusive fans, wannabe stalkers, voyeurs and frankly disturbing mails and video messages. Thankfully, he has friends looking out for him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Fame

**Author's Note:**

> An answer to an old Anon Kink Meme prompt that can be found here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/491.html?thread=1886955#t1886955
> 
> Also posted here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/9338.html?thread=11343738#t11343738
> 
> Not beta'ed.  
> Hope you'll like anyway!

When he’s entering his private quarters, Optimus immediately nothing something isn’t right. Some of the items he keeps on display have been rearranged. Cautiously, Optimus looks closely at everything. Did someone install micros? Cameras? A bomb? Decepticons were still out of there, and would certainly try to avenge their leader. Though so far, they hadn’t been the Prime’s biggest worry.

“Oh, you’re already back?”

Someone is standing by the door leading to his private berthchamber. At first glance, Optimus knows he doesn’t belong to the cohort of servants assigned to the palace. The mech is too highly maintened for that. He’s newly waxed, and he’s smiling dashingly at the Prime, as if he hadn’t just intruded in a private property. He can’t seen the inside of the room very clearly from his position, but Optimus can see the soft polymer cushions he uses for his head and back strut have been moved too. And there is some trace of half dried liquids on them. It makes Optimus nervous. Had this mech just… masturbated upon his berth?

It’s sick. And disgusting.

Whoever this mech is, he’s an Autobot, Optimus can see it clearly. It’s the only thing stopping him from pulling his axe out of subspace and swinging it at the intruder.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?!”

The unknown mech gives him a cheeky smile and run a hand over his helmet.

“Why, I’m just here to know you better!”

Then he pounces.

Not having expected a frontal assault, Optimus is caught by surprise and falls on his back, the assailant losing no time in straddling him and trying to immobilize his hands. Then, as Optimus tries to dislodge himself without actually hurting the unknown mech – and he can already hear Ratchet snarling at him for being too nice – because he can’t bring himself to harm a fellow Autobots, the intruder bend over him and kiss him.

It makes Optimus’ intakes stutter for a few kliks.

The kiss is rough, the silvery glossa of the intruder is trying very hard to enter his mouth, but Optimus keeps his teeth firmly clenched. He kicks strongly at his opponent, landing some good hits that force the unknown mech to end the kiss and scream in shock at the unexpected pain. What did he expect? For Optimus to gently lie back while he molested him? No chance in the Pit!

Optimus doesn’t even need to call for help.

Not three kliks after the intruder cried out, two flashes of orange and blue barreled into the room and pounced on him, dragging him away from Optimus.

“We got him Optimus Prime, Sir!”

Jetstorm and Jetfire are proud of themselves. Optimus gives them a shaking smile as he got to his pedes. Suddenly, he was feeling rather nauseous…

*_*_*_*

I never truly noticed before, I guess, but now I do. And what I see leave a bad taste in my mouth, as if I had just purged my tanks.

There’re sick ‘bots out of there.

And I’m not just talking about the Decepticons, you know? From their lot, I guess it should be expected, the crude remarks, and the mean gossips, the tentative groping, and, and… everything else. But from fellows Autobots? That was a nasty shock to say the least.

Sure, in Boot Camp, and even in bars when I was allowed in, I heard people talk like that. There is no short amount of imbibed mechs who talk about how much they fancied this ‘bot or this femme, and just how much they would have wanted to bend him/her over and do the nasty with him/her. And there are always a couple of braggarts to claim they did it this way, and just how much their partners screamed in ecstasy when they pounded into them. But most of the time, it was heavily intoxicated mechs, or soldiers. Ratchet always said frontliners had a dirtier mouth than Omega Supreme’s engines after he managed to scrub them clean with special, expensive solvents. I guess he’s right.

The true shock, its hearing civilians say those words.

“… You believe his aft is as tight as it looks?”

“Have you seen that spoiler? I could run my hands on it all day…”

“Such pretty lips; do you think he knows how to use them?”

“I bet he’s still a virgin!”

They always talk like that.

They always talk like that about Optimus.

And they have no right! Optimus is a good mech, honest and hardworking, not some kind of pleasure drone!

Sometimes, I just want to grab my wrecking ball and throw it at them with all the strength I can gather and cave their fragging heads in! But usually, I control myself. It would do no good for anyone if I lost it in the middle of the street and started to attack anyone disrespecting my boss.

Usually…

“Well, if he is, I’d like to break his seal with my big, fat spike and make him beg for me ‘til he’s coming in my laps!”

But there is no way I’m letting this one slide by…

*_*_*_*

Optimus is definitely getting meeker by the orns, thank to those blasted fraggers. It’s getting worse every cycle, every single time he makes an appearance in public. The press is always hovering around him, which does him no good, but he can deal with them. They don’t attack him on his temporary program, nor do they attack him on his wish to step down once Ultra Magnus is well enough to get back to his post. Some seldom few even approve, hinting the next temporary Magnus needs some more vorns to truly grow into a true leader. They do their jobs those ones. But the others…

What business is it for them to know if Optimus is single? Or what kind of energon brew he likes? Or if he really was into a hot threesome with Sentinel Prime and Ultra Magnus? The last one made him choke right in front of the cameras and sputter a shocked ‘no’ – which some idiots really think means ‘yes’.

It wasn’t too bad either with the public at first, too. Sure, random strangers getting out of their way to just hug him or shake his hand was startling, but manageable. Until now, he got a couple of invitations to visit some shops, was offered gifts, free samples from merchants, and he turned them down as gently as possible and continued his way. However, it was starting to evolve into something far less comfortable altogether. Like this femme, who kept Optimus’ hand in her just a bit too long, and was almost caressing it rather than holding it. A random mech had dared to kiss Optimus out of the blue; on the cheek, mind you, he wasn’t bold enough to go for the lips. Then there was this minibot, who hugged Optimus but let his hands drift onto the red and blue mech’s aft rather than keeping them around his waist. And the tabloids took many pictures of this incident.

It evolved in an unexpected and unwelcomed direction from here. Ratchet is really ready to shot the miserable fraggers who publish the rags they call newsletters. They only add fuel to the fire and encourage a deplorable behavior. People have started openly talking about Optimus in the streets now, and not in a good way. By the Allspark, even Sentinel frigging Prime is frowning at some of those comments and gestures!

Speaking of the big idiot, he was suspiciously quiet today. Ratchet threw him a look. Why Optimus had kept him as second/secretary for his temporary stance as Magnus, Ratchet had no idea. The blue mech is a real slagger, prejudiced and unable to honestly admit his wrongs. But Sentinel, at least, knew how to navigate in some of the darker, muddier parts of politics, something neither Optimus nor Ratchet knew the slightest thing about.

“No longer screeching about how unfair it is you have to screen his mails?” Ratchet can’t resist the snarky comment. There is no lost love between the Prime and he. But they do have to collaborate, so he takes upon himself and try to make the best of the situation.

Sentinel makes a sour face, but doesn’t comment. That makes Ratchet raises up from his seat in a klik.

“Okay, what’s going on? Don’t bother lying,” he adds seriously as Sentinel looks ready to protest. “We both know you wouldn’t act like that if there wasn’t a problem, so spill it.”

“… I think I better show you.”

Sentinel pushes a button and a window on the computer’s screen pop up. Ratchet feels angered just by looking at it. The video clip is largely dominated by darkness, and the image is of a bad quality altogether. But it’s not dark enough to hide the probably average-sized spike filmed close-up, nor the hand that strokes it.

“… shove my spike up that pretty valve of you, slowly, ever so slowly, so you can get adjusted to the length before I start really moving. It will slide inside easily, with how well-lubricated you will be when I’m finished fingering you, stretching you for my pleasure. You’ll moan my name as I’ll penetrate you, my sweet little Prime, my sweet little Optimus…”

Whoever was speaking had a low voice, and probably thought it was sultry. In truth, it was highly sickening. Especially with the soft pants the mysterious mech was emitting while he spoke of what he would like to do to my friend. Sentinel cut the feed just before the mysterious mech could ejaculate, probably crying out Optimus’ name as he did so.

Ratchet could feel his hands shaking. In rage, to be precise.

“… since when have you received messages like this one? Because I assume it’s not the first?”

He wants to rant at Sentinel for not letting him know sooner. But his anger deflates a bit as he sees Sentinel’s expression. Whatever information he had withheld, the other Prime hadn’t done it out of spit. Some small, misguided sense of concern, perhaps.

“Because it was never so bad before!” The blue mech said, throwing his arms up. And he makes him listen to a few audio messages he went through.

There is a fumbling, rather sweet femme. “So, hum, I don’t exactly know how to put it. I mean, I can’t exactly ask you to go out with me, we don’t even know each other, and… Oh, why is it so hard?! But, perhaps, we could, someday… hang up together and have a drink? I’ll pay! I would just like to… Yeah, I know, it’s pretty stupid, a celebrity like you with a no-one like me, forget it. But I just wanted to say to you, well, thank for stopping the Decepticons. And… you’rereallyacutemech! Bye!”

There is an artist, looking for a model, and perhaps for some extra. “… such a nice pair of legs, I hope you don’t mind me saying it. So, how about you come to my atelier for me to paint a picture of your triumph? Perhaps we could… have a drink after I’m finished painting you?”

It escalates gradually… or not so much.

Another mech sent some photos of him in lascivious positions. “Come on, sweetie, I know you want me! I’m gorgeous, you’re gorgeous, we could be so much more together – “

A femme, with a voice that grates on Ratchet’s nerves relay. “… will ride you all night cycle long, love, you’ll never find one better than me…”

There are a lot of audio messages or written letters in the same style. Pit, some brothels in seedier parts of Cybertron and high quality escort services even send a message to inform the temporary Magnus that he could request their services for free for the time being! The worse, Sentinel shows him later on.

“– he’s mine, you blue bastard, so get your fingers away from my mech! As if such a glorious ‘bot would like some bumbling idiot like you! And while you’re at it, tell those flying freaks and that yellow nuisance to get their greasy paws away too! He’s mine, do you hear me?! Mine!”

“It was addressed to me personally. This morning,” Sentinel comments in a rather dull voice. “I told Jazz immediately and he reinforced the security around the building. I asked Perceptor if he could upgrade the twins’ weapons, just in case, but he can’t do it right away. And somebody else should be on protection details while they get armored up.”

Ratchet starts pacing angrily. He can’t rant at Sentinel for doing nothing, because the Prime did something. Sure, he didn’t tell them and went behind their back, but he did something, if only because he was worried for the two mechlings he’s mentoring. And perhaps he’s also actually worried for Optimus. In Ratchet’s opinion, Sentinel was a jerk and an idiot, true, but he was reasonably professional. His job involved keeping someone safe, and he would. Or try at least.

Sentinel’s optics are looking at everything but him. “I also took the liberty to draft a few mechs to monitor the comms and see if we can trace the calls. Some of them are just too disturbing and I think we really need to have a chat with whoever sends them.”

Ratchet opens his mouth to answer. For once, he’s even ready to compliment the blue Prime for his quick thinking.

A buzzing sound made them both jump in surprise. Ratchet answered the comm. almost immediately, having been the closer. He frowned as he turned toward Sentinel.

“You should send some Elite Guard’s members in the Alpha-Three-Gamma District; looks like Bulkhead started a fight with a couple of locals. Over something they said about Optimus, apparently.”

Sentinel snorted. “Of course he did, the idiot.” But you could say his spark wasn’t wholly into that.

How bad are the things, if even the thick-headed Elite’s mech was actually not seriously lashing at someone?

Another comm. alarm went off; Ratchet immediately answered, optics widening as he listened to the message.

“Send a security team to Optimus’ room. Immediately. The twins caught an intruder inside.”

Sentinel sputtered. “How the frag did he even managed to enter!” He’s already taking his lance out of subspace, ready to charge through the doors.

“I don’t know and I don’t slagging care right now! I need to get my tools and check on Optimus.”

Sentinel paused, obviously startled. “Was he injured?”

Ratchet’s optics went hard and cold, like a glacier back on Earth. “No. But the intruder tried to force himself on him.”

It took a breem for the news to really sink down. Sentinel took his head in his hands.

“Well, frag…”

A third comm. alert went on. Sentinel and Ratchet exchanged a look before Sentinel reached for the comm. himself…

*_*_*_*

Honestly, Bumblebee was ticked off.

No, scratch that, he was downright furious!

The object of his rage was currently curling upon the floor, moaning in pain as his motors systems emitted sparks. Bumblebee smirked. So much for his stingers being useless; well aimed and with the right level of power behind the shots, they packed quite a punch, like the intruder he had just caught could attest. The intruder he had caught, an average-sized mech with a blue and green botched paintjob, moaned again. Bumblebee resisted the temptation to just kick him, but it was hard. Good Autobots didn’t kick enemies when they were done. But good Autobots didn’t sneak into highly secured and access restricted place with nefarious purposes in mind either.

A familiar and unwelcomed face rounded the corner, followed by a small armed group of security mechs and Autotroopers, and Bumblebee tried not to sneer. He really disliked Sentinel, but he wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Not after everything that happened on Earth.

“What happened, bumbler?” Sentinel asked with a drawl.

Bumblebee didn’t answer right away, but dropped a small camera, barely bigger than his fist, into Sentinel’s hand.  
“What in the Pit…?”

Bumblebee stood straight, optics hard. “I was doing additional patrols with Sari. She was moving through the ventilation system to avoid being walked on by oblivious mechs and femmes and doing some surveillance when she surprised this guy,” he pointed to the intruder two Autotroopers were now holding, “snooping inside the common washracks. She was about to leave, thinking he was one of our troops coming to clean himself, when she noticed he was holding a camera and was actually scanning the room to see where he could hide it. She called me straight away.”

“And you attacked him out of the blue?” Sentinel was glaring at him.

Bumblebee scoffed. “Of course not. I tried to speak first, but he bolted. I had to give chase and corner him before he relented and told me what the camera was for. Then I attacked him.”

“For no good reason, I take! Suspects shouldn’t be apprehended with force and…!” Sentinel couldn’t finish his speech. Bumblebee hissed in rage, startling him.

“Sentinel, he was trying to spy on Optimus!” Bumblebee snarled angrily. “He wanted to see him at his most ‘vulnerable’ and ‘sexy’! He’s a freaking voyeur!”

“But Optimus doesn’t come to clean here anymore since he got a private washroom in his quarters,” Sentinel stated almost stupidly.

“Apparently, our ‘friend’ wasn’t in the know about this little fact,” Bumblebee groused. “He managed to get in and dodged all the patrols. I suspect inside help.”

“That’s not possible! They were handpicked for their reliance and…!”

“Well, you have a better explanation?” Bumblebee snapped. “Because ‘pure, dumb luck’ isn’t going to cut it! No matter how much of it my team went through! I want a security screen on everyone in the building, and I want it yesterday! Right now, Sari is checking the rooms to see if she can find more – and don’t give me grief about not trusting an organic, because right now, I trust her more than half the fragging city! We don’t know how long he was in for sure, nor if he had more toys with him. But based on estimation, he probably had the time to hide at least one more. What in the Pit were you doing while he was at it?!”

“I had asked the security to…” Sentinel started.

“Well, your security team is a joke! Two intruders in a fragging cycle! Two! And one of them assaulted Optimus! Yeah, I know about this one, Ratchet send me a message. And what if Sari hadn’t seen the other guy putting that camera in? What do you think would have happened?!”

Sentinel looked slightly contrite. Two guards were now dragging away the still moaning intruder behind them. The other three looked at the exchange between the two knows ‘enemies’ with large optics. Well, one did. The other two were having a hushed conversation.

“… but that would have been so wrong! It’s invading someone’s privacy!”

Not hushed enough, for both Sentinel and Bumblebee picked on it.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you don’t dream to see the Magnus giving himself some fun in the racks too! I mean, he’s easy on the optics. I can already picture him all wet and nice under the shower, with his cod piece discarded and…”

It was hard to say who hit him first. However, a klik later, the mech was dropping onto the floor, left optics fractured by Bumblebee’s kick into his head, and abdominal plates slightly caved by Sentinel’s right punch.

Bumblebee glared at the remnant of the security team. “Someone else want to say something? Go ahead, please. Go ahead.” His stingers were emitting sparks as he spoke, and he smiled in a rather disturbing way.

Sentinel clenched his teeth as he cuffed the offending guard. “That’s it! I’m calling Rodimus’ team back from Athenia. At least, they’re professionals!”

*_*_*_*

The soft beeping of the spark support didn’t distract them. They were used to it by now.

“And so, the reconstruction of the old industrial area is processing according to plans. We should be able to reopen the first factory in less than twelve orns, pending any problems with the security check.”

“Do you foresee any?”

“No, it’s unlikely. However, I would prefer a double check anyway, to be sure. We can’t let workers in here if we’re not certain no harm will befall them because of faulty construction.”

“You’re not worried about substandard production?”

“In my opinion, low product quality, if any appears, can be rectified later on. But priority should be to insure no industrial accident can happen. A spark is more precious than a couple of usable goods; they can always be replaced. A living being can’t.”

Ultra Magnus looked at his temporary successor with a soft smile. “You did a good job, Optimus.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

The answer was brief, and Optimus was standing ramrod over his berth, his face blank. His tone, however, indicated wariness and, Ultra Magnus could hear it, tiredness.

“You haven’t been recharging well,” the Magnus noted simply. “Was the incident in your quarters so shaking?”

Optimus startled. “Sir? You… You know?”

Magnus nodded faintly. “Few things escape my notice, Optimus. I still have mechs reporting to me and keeping me informed of the state of Cybertron and our colonies. I might not be able to leave this berth or walk out of those walls, but I didn’t lost contact with my planet. By the way, I can understand why you didn’t tell me of your tentative commercial accords with the humans, but I can’t say I disapprove. So far, it’s advantageous to us. Try to keep it this way.”

Optimus gulped. “Y… yes, Sir.”

There was a small silence. Ultra Magnus attentively watched the younger mech sitting by the side of his berth. Optimus had lowered his optics, refusing to look at him anymore.

“You didn’t answer my earlier question, Optimus,” he noted calmly.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about, Sir. I… I’m perfectly fine.”

Ultra Magnus sighed. “Let me tell you a story, Optimus.”

He closed his optics as his vents worked a bit harder.

“Once upon a time, a young mech was thrust into an office position for which he was ill-prepared at first. However, because he had realized great things on the battlefield, combating Cybertron’s enemies, he could do no wrong in the public’s optics, and despite his inexperience, he managed to make things work. However, the admiration the public had for him shifted gradually. Mechs and femmes alike were praising him, but they also started praising his looks.”  
Optimus startled. It sounded like…

“It was mostly innocent at first. It wasn’t unusual for the young leader to be showered in gift, ranging from energon delicacies to expensive crystals. He even found it flattering. But the young leader learned soon enough that some people out there weren’t just admiring his looks. No, some of them wanted more than just look.”  
Ultra Magnus’ optics were a bit vague as he spoke. Optimus could guess he was being reminded of painful memories.

“He had friends who were watching out for him and didn’t let him know how bad it was, so the young leader had no idea he inspired openly lustful feelings. It wasn’t just conceivable for him. Then his world went crashing down one late cycle, as he was heading for the washracks to clean himself after a long and tiring training session. He had barely entered the collective racks that a big femme, who towered easily over him, barreled into him, and pushed him to the floor. For the young leader, it was terrifying. Too stunned to properly defend himself – it was supposed to be a safe place, for Primus’ sake! – he couldn’t react fast enough and the femme kept hitting his forehead into the ground to dazzle him and force him into compliance.”

“Sir, were you…?” Optimus asked softly.

“Molested?” Utlra Magnus completed with a thin smile. “Thank Primus, no. It turned out someone else had been wanting to use the racks when I did, and he got the drop on my attacker before she could do anything. It was a close thing, however. By the time Yoketron yanked this femme off me and gave her a good thrashing, she had already managed to pry open my interface panel and was trying to slip her fingers into my… Well, I said enough. I don’t think I ever thanked Yoketron enough for that,” he added with a wistful look.

Shaking his head at Optimus’ horrified look, he continued. “The incident really shook me at the time. It doesn’t bother me as much today, but for a long time, I had bad memories purges during recharge cycles. I couldn’t help but be fearful of what would have happened if Yoketron hadn’t been there. For cycles, my closest friends wouldn’t let me alone. Alpha Trion wouldn’t let me out of his sight, and Kup slept in my own room with a finger on the trigger of his weapon. Even Megatron…” Ultra Magnus paused and shook his head. “It was long before the civil war started, mind you, and if tension was already existing, he was a… decent enough mech.”

Optimus had a hard time picturing Megatron actually caring about what could have befallen Ultra Magnus. In his mind, he pictured the Warlord, ready and willing to exterminate his enemies, including the Magnus. Of course, it wasn’t him but Shockwave who had been the one to deal the blows which had incapacitated the Autobots’ leader and send him on spark support, possibly for the rest of his life. Indeed, if concern had existed between them at some point, it must have been a very long time ago.

Ultra Magnus hadn’t yet finished transmitting his memories. “For vorns, I had to live with love letters, crazy wannabe stalkers and various pervs. Not unlike what you’re going through now, from what I understand.”

“It’s… not that bad, Sir,” Optimus whispered. But his shoulders were shaking.

As much he wanted to shrug it off and appear calm and composed in front of Ultra Magnus, Optimus was far from being serene.

How could he not be riled up and fearful of what he had learned those last cycles? Sentinel and Ratchet hadn’t been able to hide the pornographic messages send to him. Two intruders had been caught in the very walls of Metroplex, one of them ready to rape him, the other wanting to spy him and stalk him! Sari had eventually found an already hidden camera, just under his own desk! It made Optimus shudder, just thinking about someone continually filming his pelvic plating and thighs. To add fuel to his growing discomfort, he had heard ‘bots with who he was working with every joor talking of him in rather crude terms – guards, assistants, servants event, optics darkening in lust as they commented on his ‘fine aft’ and ‘voluptuous lips’. Jazz had been the one dealing out the punishment for any soldiers he found ‘disrespecting the temporary Magnus’, putting them through the craziest obstacles course he could create, after having handed their aft to them with an incredible display of Metallikato and Crystalocution.

“You should learn to lie better, Optimus,” Ultra Magnus commented simply.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Sir?” Optimus asked faintly, looking undecided. The Magnus encouraged him with a nod. “Did it… How and when did it stop? The derogatory comments and… the… sexual interest, I mean.”

“Oh, it never totally stopped, Optimus. It just toned down gradually. For most people, it’s just a temporary fixation. Eventually, they realize they have no hope, and go back their merry way, no longer thinking of me as a possible sex partner, just someone good looking. Of course, they wouldn’t say ‘no’ if I proposed to them, but they don’t give me more than a passing thought. And then, you have the truly unhinged or obsessive ones,” Ultra Magnus sighed. “Even now I still receive love letters and sex propositions from perfect strangers, and I’m not stupid enough to think there are no actual stalkers out there who only wait a slip in the security to try and come closer to me. To give you an example, just three orns before we heard of your team’s survival, Longarm Prime arrested a mech wanting to abduct me and hoping to become my lover by sequestering me in his private apartment complex.”

Optimus gasped. “You’re no serious!”

“Unfortunately, yes I am. I deeply regret you’ll live the same thing.”

“Do you think… it will be as bad?”

“From what I’ve heard, it already is. You’re new. Exotic. You’re the new media’s darling. You stand in the spotlight when, just before, you were a virtual unknown. You’re young, good looking, and single, without a prospective mate in sight. It makes some people… ‘crazy for your love’.”

Optimus grimaced. “Well, they certainly are crazy.”

“There is not much to be done, I’m afraid, asides from taking appropriate measures. Find reliable people to trust with your safety. Find a place you feel secure recharging in – and you really need one, it’s apparent you haven’t recharged in a while.”

Optimus’ face plates heated slightly. “Ratchet actually suggested I take residence in Omega Supreme until further notice...”

Ultra Magnus frowned slightly but nodded. “Hum, not a bad idea. Using the big guns so soon would be a good deterrent for most people. And I’m sure Omega would have something to say to any intruders trying to snoop in. You’ll be well protected. Anyway, ask Jazz to teach you some Circuit-Su and Tekkaido moves. Hand-to-hand combat is something you’re clearly lacking experience in. I would have thought you had more practice…”

“… I was only beginning the courses when I had to leave the academy,” Optimus stated quietly. Ultra Magnus winced, but didn’t comment further. Of course; once upon a time, even before the war, it was standard practice for the Cadets to learn a least one martial art style to defend themselves in close-combat. However, with Yoketron’s deactivation, and without teachers of his level to teach all the younger generation, instructors delayed the hand-to-hand training until all the potential washouts had left the training course, reserving the hand-to-hand classes to the few who would certainly enter the Elite Guard, and the handful wanting to become full-fledged cyberninjas.

He took the times to really look at Optimus again. A long time ago, he had sensed potential in this young ‘bot, only to be disappointed by his action, which had resulted in the death of another promising Cadet. He hadn’t thought Optimus would amount for much after this, but Fate loved irony. The one who seemed the least likely to become a hero was now standing tall for all to see, and was literally ruling the planet, even if it was a temporary situation.

Honestly, had it been Sentinel dealing with the pressure and lustful intents of the public, Ultra Magnus would have had doubts.

Sentinel wasn’t a bad mech, per say, but the Magnus knew very well his second had still a long way to go before he could handle the power and responsibilities that came with the Magnus’ title. He was still too prompt to bad decisions and unwilling to listen to the ideas of other mechs. Despite his shortcomings, Sentinel was certainly more attuned to the dark side of the office and more ready to accept the consequences than Optimus would probably ever be.

However, Optimus was the braver and the most determinate. The mech hadn’t hesitated to go against Megatron, and he had won. He hadn’t backed down; even when the Elite Guard hadn’t believed his claims of Decepticons on Earth, he hadn’t relented. He was so much more resilient than anyone gave him credit for…

Optimus could have a great future before him, if not as the Magnus, than at least as a great Commander for the Elite Guard.  
This is why Ultra Magnus spoke firmly, as Optimus was about to leave.

“You’ll go through rough times, Optimus, but I think you’ll be fine.”

“If you say so, Sir.” Optimus saluted and left, promising to come back as soon as possible.

Once alone, Ultra Magnus reached for a small remote and turned on the holographic screen. There should be some news on…

His optics widened slightly as on the first channel he looked across, some very familiar figures glared threateningly at the cameras and reporters. He made out the heavy form of Bulkhead, standing in a vaguely menacing way, and the lighter one of Bumblebee, battle mask on and stingers ready to shot. But the best was the old red and white mech standing between them, scolding fiercely and ranting at some unsuspecting mech who had reached for them with a micro.

“ … and if I hear anyone, and I mean anyone, badmouthing Optimus Prime and treating him like if he was some pleasure drone, I swear I’ll will…!”

Ultra Magnus laughed as Ratchet exploded into a litany of insults and punishments for anyone he caught. “Oh yes, you’ll be very fine, Optimus,” he smiled for himself as he listened on Ratchet’s rant over the holographic screen. “Very fine indeed…”


End file.
